


And Won't Stop Until The Cops Come In

by AdorabloodthirstyKitty



Series: AntiDark [17]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gore, M/M, Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 03:17:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9638600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdorabloodthirstyKitty/pseuds/AdorabloodthirstyKitty
Summary: Jesus called, he said he's sick of the dissesI told him to quit bitching and this isn't a fucking hotlineYonkers - Tyler The Creator





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Blessed With a Curse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6817678) by [GalaxyGhosty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty), [Quintessentia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quintessentia/pseuds/Quintessentia). 



> warning for the link: eye contact, eye horror(?), suicide  
> based loosely on the last half of chapter 16

_I'm a fuckin walking paradox_  
_No I'm not_

Anti tuned out the rest of the shit on the radio, his bad eye irritated under the eyepatch, socket gummy and dried blood itching under the black cloth. He ignored it, as he always does, arms crossed over his chest as Dark drives them to their next location.

That seemed like years ago now.

Now, standing in the doorway of a shitty little bedroom made solely for carnal acts in shitty lighting, Anti stands, all thought and breath and movement and life seemingly gone from his body, tense and frozen at the look of Dark's mussed hair and rumpled clothes, the bitch on the bed, clueless and just as messy as her counterpart. Dark speaks and Anti immediately shuts him up, voice terse as his vision moves back to the bitch, the reason he's seeing red even past the neon sign barely muted by thin curtains.

He moves to her on the bed, leaning over and taking her pretty little chin in hand as he speaks, soft and calm, barely containing the rage making his heart speed up and his blood sing. He tightens his grip and her jaw cracks under his fingers, her somewhat pretty face not quite so pretty with her jaw hanging open as she wails. Anti wraps his hand around her throat and pushes her down on the cheap bedspread, pulling his knife to satiate the need for her blood pooling and some fucking silence.

She fights and loses. His whole body goes into the action, holding her down with his weight as he plunges the knife between her ribs over and over, until the wails and screams turn to sobs and grunts, spluttering and silence. He buries the knife to the hilt in her abdomen, tearing down in one long, deep cut, her guts spilling out like stuffing from the popped seam of a toy. He forgoes the knife, pale hands plunging into the warmth of her intestines as he fishes for her kidneys.

He's scared. He's scared and furious at himself and Dark and her in equal parts, and he hates it. He hates McLoughlin’s voice in his head like his own thoughts, spelling out his fears like he knows a fucking thing. Like he knows how it feels to be forced to play along with Dark's bullshit just to get what he wants, just to fucking live. Subjecting himself to Dark's smarmy, soft words and big hands that never want to leave him unless they're tearing some helpless sap apart. McLoughlin knows nothing of Anti’s predicament. He knows fuck-all about being the chain to a rabid dog.

The bitch is nothing more than a crime scene now. Anti’s chest is heaving, kidneys in hand as his heart finally begins to slow from the hard, frantic thrum it had been assaulting his ribs with since he stepped up to the bed. Dark is silent, the familiar feeling of his eyes on Anti doing nothing to quell his fury. He throws the organs on the cheap table near his partner, his body a silhouette, a body-shaped void cut into the space in front of the thin cheap curtains and the black night and red neon beyond. Dark tries to speak but Anti isn't in the mood for anything but silence and solitude, telling Dark to have fun cleaning up the mess as he spins on his heel and leaves the ripped-open body and dark room behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> heard this song again after so fucking long. this mixed with a shitty morning makes murder porn I guess. I missed writing for my demon boys. can you tell how bad a mood I'm in with this end note cuz I sure can. good morning, afternoon, evening, and night, love you guys


End file.
